It’s the birthday (possibly) of Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593, #diedtooyoung), who would be considered the greatest Elizabethan poet and dramatist if William Shakespeare hadn’t gotten all grabby about it. Marlowe’s great contribution was his creation of Shakespearean blank verse drama, known as Shakespearean blank verse drama because, well, you know.

Marlowe was born in Canterbury, Kent, England, to a shoemaker and his wife, and while the date of his birth is iffy, he was definitely baptized on February 26; they didn’t waste time baptizing infants in those days thanks to a fresh outbreak of plague. (Don’t you love all this local color? Shoemakers and plagues… it’s all so romantic.) Marlowe was educated at King’s School, which was just as shi-shi as it sounds, and went on to Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. (Cool.) Marlowe did things in Latin and began writing plays, including what was probably his first, The True History of George Scanderbeg, which is now lost, so say whatever the heck you want about it, nobody can prove you wrong. Marlowe received his BA and then his MA, which was a Big Hairy Deal in those days, and was probably intending to take holy orders with the Anglican Church as required by his scholarship but instead veered off into the Queen’s secret service. If Queen Elizabeth I said veer, you veered. (There was a lot for the secret service to do, as Catholic plots to assassinate the Queen abounded.)

In 1587, Marlowe moved to London, did a little more government work, got involved in the occasional violent scuffle, served a little jail time, and changed the course of English drama in just a few short years. His plays Tamburlaine the Great, parts I and II, possibly written at Cambridge, made Marlowe’s reputation; they tell the story of the rise and fall of Tamburlaine, who starts out as a shepherd in part I but then conquers various empires, like you do, and marries the sultan’s daughter and everything’s coming up roses, but things fizzle badly in part II as the hero becomes crueler, weaker, and disappointed in his children. Other plays include Dido, Queen of Carthage (c. 1586, before Tamburlaine); The Jew of Malta (c. 1589); Doctor Faustus (c. 1589 or 1593); Edward II (c. 1592); and The Massacre at Paris (c. 1592-ish).

Marlowe spent May 30, 1593, with three men at a lodging house. At the end of the day, they supposedly fought over the bill, and Marlowe supposedly attacked Ingram Frizer, who stabbed Marlowe in the head supposedly in self-defense, and Marlowe supposedly died instantly. The witnesses were completely dodgy and the whole incident smacked of political intrigue, and the murder theories have flourished ever since, including the He Faked His Own Death theory.

There are also theories about Marlowe and Shakespeare’s relationship, including: Marlowe really authored Shakespeare’s plays; Shakespeare really authored Marlowe’s plays; Marlowe found out who was really authoring Shakespeare’s plays and was therefore bumped off; and so on. The fun never ends.

Have a fine and dandy Wednesday and stay scrupulously honest to the data.